<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Flowers by shadowcat720</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990876">Flowers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowcat720/pseuds/shadowcat720'>shadowcat720</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Flowers, Gifts, Necromancy with plants, Other, Reader-Insert, courting, no y/n</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:13:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990876</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowcat720/pseuds/shadowcat720</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody seems to appreciate what you do, let alone think about it when they give you a gift.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Flowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You scowled down at the box on your table. It was plain and white with a red ribbon tied around it. It had been delivered to your doorstep this morning. You didn’t need to read the card to know who it was from.</p><p>You thought it was flowers. The knight was barking up the wrong tree if he thought you liked that kind of thing.</p><p>You sighed, took the lid off the box and, yes, it was full of flowers.</p><p>Dead flowers, every one brown, withered and brittle. Lifeless.</p><p>You put the lid aside and picked one out carefully, examining it. Some sort of rose, maybe?</p><p>You flushed, putting it back with the others. When was the last time anyone had taken your profession into account when giving you a gift?</p><p>Never. No one ever had. You had dismissed your latest ardent admirer as a man no different from the rest: a man who wanted you for your pretty face and thought he could change you, turn you into some ordinary, respectable spouse. As though you were just waiting for someone to give you an excuse, an opportunity, to stop practising your dark craft.</p><p>But the Holy Knight had sent you dead flowers knowing what you could (and certainly would) do to them. It was as if he was telling you that he didn’t mind what you did and didn’t want you to stop doing it.</p><p>You rubbed your palms together and laid them gently over the contents of the box, concentrating. Flowers and plants were your favourites, far easier than animals.</p><p>A soft golden light played over the dead flowers and they began to shimmer. Soon you could smell the sweet scent of roses as the dead flowers returned to life, becoming vibrant and healthy.</p><p>The box that had just moments ago been full of dry, lifeless flowers was now full of vivid purple roses.</p><p>Not black, though you would have accepted that. A different colour, one you weren’t sure the meaning of and quite frankly didn’t care about.</p><p>You picked up the ribbon, thinking it might do nicely for hair. You thought you might have vases up in your kitchen cupboard somewhere.</p><p>Checking the card, you see that it was indeed from your latest admirer, the Holy Knight. A man of few words, he probably hoped the flowers and their state would coney his message.</p><p>Well, message received, you thought with a smile. This was one suitor you might actually go out on a date with. He was cute and apparently liked you for who you were.</p><p>You would have to send something in return, of course. What sort of thing did Holy Knights like? You wanted to show the same kind of consideration he did with your gift, but aren’t sure how. Perhaps a protective charm against dark magics or something? A person who frequently fought demons could never have too many of those.</p><p>You hummed a tune as you went looking for something to put flowers in, wondering if the knight would mind if your first date was in or near a graveyard. You’re a busy Necromancer after all.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>